Firm or Fit

I have resigned myself to the fact it took much longer than two months for my body to look the way it does so it will probably take longer than two months (or a mere 86,400 minutes) to shape it into the svelte, neck craning, eye popping, bodacious being I have challenged myself to become again before the mystical and magical age of 50 (I have a couple of years, but I thought I better start planning ahead) whops me upside the head and gravity takes control.  It has been a long arduous journey to get to this point of consciousness and a very difficult realization for me to accept, due to the fact that I am very much into instant gratification (meaning immediate results).

I could blame all of my curvaceous characteristics on heredity, which I frequently do, but somewhere between point “A” and point “B” I have let my body go to hell in the proverbial hand basket.  A quick look at the highlights that my body has had the privilege to experience: childbirth and the toll it has taken (a friend warned me that having sex might have this effect); one too many tortes – eaten only as a courtesy to our German friends (you know, when in Rome…and when torte time comes about, I am not one to offend); years of tennis seemingly lost and forgotten on my thighs when I stopped playing 4 hours a day; hundreds of “tastes” that I just had to have to ensure that what I baked was fit for human consumption; and last, but as I am finding not least, the ever present and free-for-the-taking aging process.

And so it happened…after several years of thinking that “today” was the day I was going to start my exercise and diet regimen (and years of putting it off until “tomorrow”) I woke up one morning and thought the dog could use a good walk to get out some of his extra energy.  What I found was that I needed to rouse some of my own energy to keep up with him.  I wasn’t going to let this fine furry friend get one over on me – even though he had me four legs to two… I was on a mission to wear him out! And the challenge was on! For the last 60 days, I have awakened at the crack of dawn for the mere purpose of trying to out-do this dog.  In the process I have noticed a few inches here and there slipping away (never to be found again, I hope) and the dream of being sylphlike almost is within my extended grasp.  Even my appetite seems to be waning.  For a person like me who has never met something sweet I didn’t like, this was, at first, worrisome.  But I am willing to persevere for my ultimate goal.

I have made it past the point of no return (which, I have heard, you have to get to in order to continue to be motivated) and the endorphins seem to have taken over and demand that I get my rear in gear and walk those 3-4 miles a day.  I have a willing partner in my dog expecting to now be with me every morning for our daily bonding and discussion, and we are feeling sassy and looking better, to-boot! And, an added bonus that I never really thought about, with the loss of weight and inches, is the potential of additional quality time honing the sport (and thus, more physical exertion – all for the cause) I am best at… shopping.

Cynthia A. McClelland, curious observer of the obvious with interpretations of the oddities of daily life.  Mother, wife and lover of the furry, resides in the north Lake Tahoe area.        

Cynthia A. McClelland © 2003-